Infinitely Losing My Edge
Yeah, I'm losing my edge.
I'm losing my edge.
The kids are coming up from behind.
I'm losing my edge.
I'm losing my edge to the kids from Kenya and from Taipei.
But I was there.
I was there in 1977.
I was there at the first Mistral show in Amsterdam.
I'm losing my edge.
I'm losing my edge to the kids whose footsteps I hear when they get on the decks.
I'm losing my edge to the internet seekers who can tell me every member of every good group from 1962 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Houston and Edmonton.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Milan kids in little jackets and borrowed nostalgia for the unremembered nineties.
I'm losing my edge.
I'm losing my edge.
I can hear the footsteps every night on the decks.
But I was there.
I was there in 1975 at the first Throbbing Gristle practice in a loft in London.
I was working on the theremin sounds with much patience.
I was there when Captain Beefheart started up his first band.
I told him, "Don't do it that way. You'll never make a dime."
I was there.
I was the first guy playing Kenny Larkin to the disco kids.
I played it at the 40 Watt.
Everybody thought I was crazy.
We all know.
I was there.
I was there.
I've never been wrong.
But I'm losing my edge to better-looking people with better ideas and more talent.
And they're actually really, really nice.
I'm losing my edge.
I heard you have a compilation of every good song ever done by anybody.
Every great song by Little Man. All the underground hits.
All U.S. Maple tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Lindisfarne record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal crunk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying an oboe and a linndrum and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Delon & Dalcan record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a spring reverb.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Barclay James Harvest,
Sexual Harrassment,
Harmonia,
Maurizio,
Tropical Tobacco,
The Slackers,
John Coltrane,
Kenny Larkin,
Young Marble Giants,
The Golliwogs,
The Star Department,
Slick Rick,
Girls At Our Best!,
Scan 7,
The Busters,
Bobby Hutcherson,
Crispy Ambulance,
Dorothy Ashby,
Black Moon,
Kayak,
The Index,
The Blues Magoos,
The Real Kids,
Bobby Byrd,
Main Source,
Eric Copeland,
Fear,
Sun Ra,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
Barbara Tucker,
Cecil Taylor,
The Invisible,
Cymande,
China Crisis,
Black Flag,
Lee Hazlewood,
Spandau Ballet,
Lalo Schifrin,
In Retrospect,
Banda Bassotti,
Tubeway Army,
Q and Not U,
Darondo,
Tommy Roe,
Pulsallama,
James White and The Blacks,
The Five Americans,
Zero Boys,
Aloha Tigers,
Blake Baxter,
Sugar Minott,
Zapp,
B.T. Express,
KRS-One,
Khruangbin,
The Vogues,
Robert Görl,
Visionaries,LMNO, T- Love & Iriscience,
Erasure,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
The Selecter, The Selecter, The Selecter, The Selecter.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.